James had taken his shirt off for this, and bloodspray glittered along both arms. He murmured constantly, low vicious words for Nazario’s ears alone. His phoenix tattoo flexed with every strike of the hammer.
Sometimes revenge was best served hot.
Bishop envied James and Darius on a fucked-up level. They’d both achieved closure today. Darius killed his mentor. Jameswas currently very slowly killing the mastermind behind his family’s deaths. Violent, hands-on, personal closure.
Bishop’s ex-partner was still alive behind bars. That was justice, sure. But it didn’t feel satisfying like a hammer to the joints.
Crushing Archie’s fingers wouldn’t solve anything, of course. It wouldn’t undo Archie’s crimes. But it would feel good, for as many hours as Bishop could stretch it out.
Ever since he met James, Bishop had planned how to pick up the pieces. This day was always coming. Bishop had expected James to be shattered afterwards.
James would probably have a breakdown later. Hard to avoid. His entire life had been wrapped up in his revenge mission. Finally reaching a painful goal could break a man when he had nothing left.
Except revenge wasn’t James’s entire life. Not anymore. This might have shattered James a year ago, before he met Kit. But his life meant more than it used to.
James cared about people who weren’t just memories, now.
Bishop fought down another unseemly twinge of jealousy. He didn’t have closure with Kit either. When this cleanup was over, he would return to his empty house. The couch where Kit used to sit, the mug that Kit used to drink from, and the magazines that Kit used to mock him for.
And the bed where Kit tried to seduce him. Just one of the bad ideas twisting their lives together.
No, Bishop wasn’t jealous of James or Darius or even Holden. He wanted an aspect of Kit nobody else had seen yet. An aspect Kit might not even know himself.
But that wasn’t worth musing about. There was a good chance Bishop had already fucked their relationship up. Irrevocably. Hecouldn’t let himself regret what he’d done. He would rather do the right thing for Kit, even if Kit hated him.
“Are you going to be okay?” Bishop asked.
Darius’s expression didn’t change, as if he was simply curious what body part James would smash next. Then he relaxed deliberately into something more like honesty. A little anxious. A little stunned. A little relieved.
“This was what I needed to retire,” Darius said, gesturing towards the living room. “Without Felicity lurking in the background, ready to use other people as collateral… I can be done. I can invite Miranda over to meet Kit.”
Bishop gave him a moment before prodding. “That didn’t answer my question.”
“Motherfucker,” Darius said, the most openly friendly he’d ever sounded. “I’m still thinking about the logistics. It’ll get weird later when it sinks in. She taught me everything.”
“Bet she regretted that,” Bishop remarked.
“Never had a chance.” Darius chuckled. “She didn’t see me coming. Taught me that, too.”
Bishop clasped Darius’s shoulder. “I’m glad to have you as a friend. I’d hate to have you as an enemy.”
“The feeling’s mutual.”
Across the beachy kitchen, James set the hammer down with a final thud. “I’ll miss you at the next chamber of commerce luncheon,” he said, and shot Nazario in the face.
Then again.
Then three more times, until Nazario’s skull looked like a watermelon dropped from a roof.
James holstered his gun. Sweat dampened his hair at the temples, and he was breathing fast. He looked how he always got after jobs. Excited. Energized.
“That was fun,” James said. “What’s next?”
“Next we have a criminal organization to clean up.” Bishop weighed his next words. He wasn’t sure how they would take his proposition. “Or to use.”
James and Darius traded glances.
“Knew it,” James said, moving to the sink.
